Do you know where your children are?
I told you last night, no!
Where is Bart anyway?
His dinner is getting
all cold and eaten.

Bart, where are you?
Come on.

I have to be up at 6:00 a.

m.

to swipe Flanders's newspaper.

What the- " President Eisenhower
celebrates 40th wedding anniversary.

Not pictured,
Mrs.

Eisenhower.

"
I'm sorry.

This is all my fault.

- Bart was filling in for-
- I don't care if he was filling in for Mel Zetz.

He's my son, and
I don't want him working
so late that-
Oh, I agree.

Kids need rules and boundaries.

Yes, everyone loves rules.

It's so tough to be a parent these days,
what with all the gangs and the drugs.

Oh, yeah, drugs.

You gotta have drugs.

Hey, he didn't pay
the cover.

Oh, Bart,
he's your father.

We'll comp him tonight,
start a tab tomorrow.

- Oh, I hope I didn't miss the floor show.

- Nope.

- Is Roxanne back?
- Yep.

- Did she, uh, get my flowers?
- She did.

l-
- Hello, Bart.

- Hello, Principal Skinner.

This is the National Air
and Space Museum, isn't it?
Uh, this isn't gonna
be aboutJesus, is it?
All things are aboutJesus,
Homer, except this.

Your son has been working
in a burlesque house.

Principal Skinner saw him
with his own eyes.

That's true, but I was only in there to get
directions on how to get away from there.

Helen, as a responsible parent,
I was already well aware of that.

Homer, I'm as permissive
as the next parent.

I mean, just yesterday, I let Todd buy some
Red Hots with a cartoon devil on the box
but you can't possibly
think it's appropriate
for your 10-year-old son
to work in a burlesque house!
Oh, no? Well, if Homer Simpson wants his
then Homer Simpson's 10-year-old son
is going to work in a burlesque house!
That's the-
[Laughs] Hi!
Now, Marge, you're gonna hear a lot of crazy
talk about Bart working in a burlesque house.

"Maison Derriere"?
I can't believe there's a place like that
in our wholesome little town.

Homer, did you know it was a burlesque house
when you sent Bart to work there?
No, I only learned that
four days ago.

What were you thinking,
sending Bart to such an awful place?
I was trying to punish
him exactly like you would.

So, in a way, you really
dropped the ball on this one.

This is your mess, and I'll be damned
if I'm gonna clean it up.

- [Groans]
- Please come in, Mrs.

Simpson.

How can I be of service?
I have a favor to ask.

Please shut this place down
and move away from Springfield.

Oh, honey,
you can't be serious.

Springfield doesn't want
places like this.

- I think I know what Springfield wants, sugar.

- Oh?
- I've lived in this town for 37 years.

- I've lived here 52 years.

- I'm third generation.

- Sixth.

Get out of my town!
Listen, darlin', we're just as much
a part of Springfield
as the church,
the library or the crazy house.

- So I think I'll stay right here, neighbor.

- Is that so?
Well, sleazy entertainment
and raunchy jokes
will never be as popular
as sobriety and self-denial.

You're about to learn
the two most dangerous words
in the English language
are "Marge Simpson.

"
It's a light-pink
'87 wagon.

And after visiting the area for, uh,
the past two months
I have determined it is
not feasible to construct
a super-train between
Springfield and Aruba.

[All Groan]
Next on the agenda is, uh
the Citizens' Committee
on Moral Hygiene.

[All Groan]
I'm here to share
my moral outrage.

But this time it's not about that
giant inflatable Dos Equis bottle.

It's about a certain house
in our town.

- What's wrong with this house? Is it the plumbin'?
- No.

It's a house of ill fame.

A house of loose ethics.

Is there a building code violation?
A drainage issue? A surveying error?
The house is
perfectly fine!
- Well, then quit bad-mouthing the house!
- Yeah, leave the house alone!
Oh, geez! It's what's inside the house
that's disgraceful.

Drinking, gambling
and debauchery.

It's right under our noses-
a secret house of burlesque.

- [All Gasp]
- [Marge] That's right.

[Carl]
That's- That's not good.

People, this is an issue that we, as a town,
are strong enough to ignore.

Let us give no more scrutiny
to this bawdy house
and its small clientele
of loyal perverts.